Winter Rain: The Plainsmen

Winter Rain: The Plainsmen

Terry C. Johnston

Language: English

Pages: 527

ISBN: 0553567705

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

Jonah Hook was a man who had lost everything a man could lose--but the iron will to reclaim what had been taken from him. Now he must confront the fiery religious heretic who has enslaved his wife and the fierce Comanche tribe who has raised his long-lost sons. From Fort Laramie, land of Sioux and Cheyenne, to the empire of the Mormons in the shadow of tall mountains, and on to the Texas panhandle, where he will join the ranks of the Texas Rangers, the journey ahead will test Jonah's courage, cunning, and endurance to the limit. On this bloody trail of rescue and revenge, nothing will stop him save success . . . or death.

the clarion. Again they sent out the companies to construct their modest outposts strung like distant beads on a strand of spiderweb, all the way from the Brazos on the north clear down to the Rio Grande flowing against the border of Mexico itself. Small bands of a dozen or more were scattered to live among the far-flung pioneer families tenaciously dug in like hermit bugs out there in that brutal, beautiful country. The Rangers were ready to ride out at a moment’s notice—to track down and punish

country with a score to settle. 33 Summer 1874 SUMMER’S LONG DAYS of oppressive heat were almost more than Gritta Hook could bear. Year after year her days flowed like this, agonizingly slow from one to the next. Season after season Usher marched them north when autumn kissed the trees with color, south again when those trees bloomed in spring—into the land of desert and cactus and dark-skinned, raven-haired people who stared at her from the side of the dusty roads where rumbled the ambulance

searched the grass for the rifle knocked from his grip, tears of frustration stinging his eyes. By Jehoshaphat! That dog was a fighter to the end. He had known it from the start back there in St. Louis when Zeke hadn’t run out of fight, even when he was getting whipped— Scratch’s fingers found the rifle, dragged it into both hands as he leaped to his feet, swinging his arms overhead as he rushed forward, yelling a guttural, unintelligible sound that welled up from the pit of him as he lunged

abandon the circle of family and friends they would leave behind in the land of Deseret controlled by the crazed and jealous, power-hungry Brigham Young. “Let Young’s most dangerous fear now become his greatest undoing!” Jubilee had roared at them, his eyes finding those of George, the Negro manservant who dutifully stood nearby, outside the wall tent where the woman lay. He knew George did not believe in the way of the Church, yet steadfastly believed nonetheless in Jubilee Usher. It did not

didn’t trust himself to move, not just yet. Then as he blinked, the first tear spilled in a streak through the dust caked on his cheek. “It’s all right. It’s gonna be all right, Mr. Sweete,” he said quietly, clearly bewildered by the big man’s violent actions. “Now, please—just tell me what the devil was going on here? Why were you so all-fired ready to get yourself killed over some dead buck—over this dead particular Cheyenne bastard here?” Royall waited for what seemed like a hot, endless